Jasmine (12 page)

When Ginny finally went away
Guinevere sat staring at the paper again. She knew that Ginny was smarter, but
she didn’t think she was right on this account. Jasmine Zinnia wasn’t smart
enough to pull this off without some help. Guinevere wondered if maybe Ginny
was in on it with her trying to make her mother look bad, but doubted that
almost as soon as she thought it. Guinevere decided to take a trip to her
office and see for herself. She called her phone to get the address and see if
she’d buy her lunch when the call went directly to voicemail. Well, she’d
simply go over there.

Gathering up her jacket and purse,
Guinevere picked up the hefty bag of cash that was still on the floor. She’d
counted it and found just over twenty grand in the bags and all in small to
larger bills. She opened the bag and took out three fifties and five twenties. Maybe
she’d buy her daughter lunch. It would be a good way to make nice with her to
get her to follow her wherever Ginny needed her to. Smiling for the first time
in days Guinevere hobbled out of the house and to the car and took it as a good
sign that it started on the first try.

~~~

Jazzie looked around the “simple”
office, as Drew had called it. It was huge. Not only that, but it was frigging
huge. She laughed at herself at that. She looked over at the woman who’d been
showing her around.

“There is a conference room just
off your own office and there is a large in-suite bath, as well as two regular
baths for guests. The kitchen has access to the room and can provide luncheon
for up to twenty-five people.” Jazzy looked over at Nathan who had agreed to
come with her as the woman pointed out the other rooms. “This room is for
private conferences, up to five or so people. There are projectors in each room,
by the way, and a state of the art sound system.”

“I have that in my office as well,”
Drew told her. “I didn’t think it would be anything I’d use, but it has come in
handy when trying to show a group of people what you’re talking about.”

Jazzie looked over the round table
with the six chairs around it. The furniture was beautiful and the chairs
looked like she could take a nap in them and not wake up sore. She grinned at
the thought. She’d not been getting a great deal of sleep lately, not that she
was complaining, but she was staring to lag a bit. She looked over at Nathan,
the reason for her lack of sleep, and listened to him ask about the secretary
that Drew said was coming today.

“She should be here within the
hour. I was under the impression that she will only be temporary until you have
a chance to interview someone else,” Mrs. Dunlap said as she waved her hand
toward another door. “I know Lucy Rosedale and I think she is a very reliable
and very competent woman. She also, if you don’t mind me saying, should be able
to keep all the…undesirables out of your office.”

“Undesirables? I’m not sure I know
what—”

“Oh, Miss, I only meant people who
would be wanting more than your autograph. You know the type? People who would
come in and try and get to your lovely self and all your money. Not to
mention…well, I’ve read your books and I must say…well, men, miss. Men will do
most anything if they think a pretty girl might want to act out what they read
in your books.”

Jazzie flushed and refused to look
at Nathan. They’d been playing last night with a particular scene that had been
giving her fits. She felt her skin heat when she remembered her own suggestions
on what she might do to improve what they’d been doing. She knew the moment he
noticed her discomfort. His soft, sexy laugh shimmered along her skin as his
fingers did when he touched her, leaving her breathless and heated.

“Here is your office, miss. There
is someone at the door out front. The security guard said he’d let me know when
someone arrived. If you’ll be alright for a few minutes, I’ll go and see to
it.” Jazzie nodded as Mrs. Dunlap walked away.

She opened the door to her office
and stopped. “Christ,” she murmured under her breath and heard Nathan chuckle.
She moved forward slowly and walked to the desk.

The building had been decorated,
she’d been told. Alyssa had told her that she’d only just had the basics done
in the other offices, but with one she’d finished. She said she wanted a room
that others, would-be renters, would be able to see potential in. This room
screamed potential, Jazzie thought with a laugh, and money.

The walls were done in creamy
white paper that had pinstripes of silver shot though it. The chair board and
the light oak paneling at the bottom half gleamed in richness. The oak wood
design was throughout the room, but more so in the shelves on two of the four
walls.

They were filled with small
mementos one would probably collect on a vacation as well as a plethora of framed
pictures. The small touches gave the room appeal and warmth. The other two
walls, one of which was floor to ceiling windows, gave the whole room a brightness
and warmth that the fireplace against the wall would never be able to match. Jazzie
picked up one of the framed pictures on the large desk and laughed. She handed
it to Nathan when he came up behind her.

“Someone wants you to have this
office as your own, I think,” he told her as he set the picture back on the
desk. “I think I saw her take that when we had your luncheon the other day.”

It was a picture of the two of
them together, her and Nathan. Alyssa had taken it with her phone. And if
memory served, then the next three pictures were of Jazzie holding the triples,
then Connor and Tonya.

“I think so.” She wandered around
the room more, touching things and picking up frames to see if she knew any of
the people. Some she did; others she didn’t. She sat on Nathan’s lap when he
sat in the office chair.

“It’s a big office, isn’t it?” He
nodded and slid his hand up under her skirt. “Nathan, there are people just down
the—” His fingers dug deep into her. “Yes, Master,” was all she could manage.

“I wanted to see if you were wet.
And now that I know, all I can think about is taking you right here to see if
you can be quiet.” He bit her shoulder and she shivered. “You didn’t do so well
the other night and now we can’t go back there.”

He’d taken her to dinner and he’d
molested her under the table like he said he was going to do. What she didn’t
expect him to do was touch her with a small vibrator. The little rabbit, as it was
called, had zeroed in on her clit and caught her off guard. She came with a
loud shout. Nathan had explained to everyone that she’d had a fright, but they
didn’t hang around to explain. She was certain that every person in that room
knew just what she’d been doing.

“Lean over and let me taste you.
Don’t come. I want you to keep quiet and let me have my fill of your sweet
pussy.” She didn’t even hesitate, but stood and leaned over, bracing her hands
on the desk. Her skirt lifted over her hips. His growl made her moan.

He separated her ass cheeks and
nipped at her. She wanted to feel his mouth there, but didn’t speak. He hadn’t
told her that she couldn’t, but she was almost afraid to. She wasn’t sure that
she could speak and try not to come at the same time. His terse “turn around”
made her pussy gush more and she sat on the desk when he told her to.

He positioned her feet up on the
arms of the chair. She was wide open for him now and could see that he was
pleased with what he saw. She leaned back and waited for him to take her. She
knew that Mrs. Dunlap could be back at any second and knew that this was part
of the thrill they both enjoyed.

He stood up and she was sure that
he was going to either lock the door or fuck her. She waited for either, wanted
either. He pulled her hips to the edge and reached for his zipper. She knew
that he was commando under the trousers he had on and couldn’t wait to see his
thick cock. She licked her lips in anticipation. He reached into the opening
and watched as he stroked his cock. Her pussy was so wet, so ready for him, she
was sure that she was going to ruin the beautiful wood. But he stepped back a
step. Then another until he was too far away to touch her.

Her heart pounded as he removed
his hand and then zipped up. She looked up at him when he helped her stand and
smoothed her skirt back down. She was trembling with need and she couldn’t
move. He leaned in and whispered in her ear just as she heard voices down the
hall.

“When I tell you to lean back you
will and not before.” The smart smack to her ass nearly made her cry out, but a
look from him silenced her. “You will obey or be punished. I’m going to go back
to my office and slick up my cock with lotion and come all over myself thinking
about how hot you looked laying before me. Next time.” He kissed her. “Next
time I won’t let you come for a week.”

The door opened and two women
walked in. Jazzie sat down hard on the chair Nathan had moved away from and
tried to regain control. The conversations around her went unnoticed as she
tried to figure out how to breathe again. He’d played her and she’d let him. She
glanced over at him when she heard her name. Well, she thought, she would make
him pay the next time they were alone. It would be worth whatever punishment he
gave her just to take him down a peg or two.

Chapter 12

Tank moved along the side of the
house to where the lady lived. He didn’t like changes and this hit changed
almost daily. The woman who’d hired him was a little off too, but he could live
with that. Money made him overlook a great many weird things. He watched as the
lights went out in the house behind him.

He was hot and itchy. He reached
under the padding and scratched hard at the sweat rolling down his chest. Tank
looked around again and decided that he could take off the cover up now, drop
it here, and come back for it later. He pulled his shirt over his head and
opened the Velcro as quietly as he could. Soon he had the thick rubber bodysuit
off and the chilled night air was caressing his salty skin.

Tank was much smaller than Ginny
thought he was. He knew what she was thinking; he’d heard it all before. She
thought he was fat and lazy, disgusting, and a bit smelly. He’d added the
smelly part by leaving his fat suit on for a few hours every day and not cleaning
it up. It gave him more authenticity and besides, it made him laugh when people
backed away from him.

But he liked having a disguise. No
one came looking for him after a job was done. And he knew that they had. Most
of the time when a job was finished the police would figure out who had hired
him. Never him, but they certainly found their way back to the employer.

Tank took off his jogging pants
and peeled out of the pants under them. He stood in the night air in just his
boxers and allowed it to cool him down. He felt the hair on his body shimmer
when a breeze moved along his skin while he was still damp. Twenty minutes
later he was walking along the house again, this time a much smaller target
than he had been.

The woman, Jasmine Waite, was home.
He’d seen her come in over an hour ago. There was a male with her, but he
didn’t foresee a problem with him. Ginny had told him that he was a drunkard
and a druggie and that he was more than likely sharing his drugs with the girl.
Tank thought maybe she was wrong about that. In his experience druggies didn’t
share well.

A dog barked close. Tank tensed. There
was very little he hated more than dogs and was afraid that one more thing had
changed that he’d not been told about. The dog’s barking grew fainter and he
let go of the breath that he was holding.

He’d been doing a job up north
when this little piss-ant of a dog had come out of nowhere and tore him up. The
little fucker had bitten him so many times that he’d had to have stitches. He
grinned. He’d hunted down the dog a few weeks later and killed him. A long and
slow death that he was sure the dog had had a heart attack rather than die from
any of the injuries he’d inflicted on him.

The door opening had him pressing
against the house quickly. He’d been so busy thinking about the stupid mutt
that he’d nearly been seen. He heard the voice of the girl then the man. He
waited to see if what they were doing gave him a way to finish this job.

“What do you mean that’s the way
it goes? That’s the fucking most… Come back here, you fucking ass, and explain
this to me. I demand an answer.” The girl had a mouth on her, that was for
sure, Tank thought with a grin.

The man laughed and kept walking
as he spoke over his shoulder. “You want me to come back then you’ll do what I
want. You know this is how it works and you’ll learn to listen or you’ll just
have to suffer.”

“You miserable excuse for a…I
swear to Christ, I hate you.” The man, Howard he thought he’d been told his
name was, laughed again. “All right, but I’ll have you know that I want a time
when I can be bossy too.”

The man came within touching
distance of Tank as he walked back to the house. Howard paused for the briefest
of seconds before he moved on. Tank held his breath, didn’t move, and didn’t
even let his finger twitch.

When the door closed behind the
couple Tank sank to the ground. His hands were shaking when he lifted them to
rub over his face. That was as close as he’d ever been to being seen. At least
being seen by anyone he didn’t want to see him.

Tank stood up after several
minutes. He was shot as far as taking out the girl and knew now that if he went
into the house to finish them, he’d make a mistake. A mistake big enough that
he’d be caught. Gathering up his suit, he walked and sometimes staggered back to
his truck and sat in the cab for several minutes. When he felt as though he had
some control he started the car and drove back to the house he’d rented. Nothing
had ever made him feel so…exposed before.

He parked under the light that
he’d broken out several days ago. He didn’t like to bring attention to himself
and a light where someone could watch him coming and going had had to go. Tank
moved his things into the house, walked to the small bedroom in the back, and
picked up the pictures of the girl.